The door creaked open.
Su Ruhan looked up. Bathed in moonlight, the Third Prince stood at the threshold, hands resting upon the latch, yet not entering.
As though nothing had happened, Su Ruhan struggled from his bed and collapsed to his knees, bowing deeply.
“This humble one greets Your Highness.”
Only then did the Third Prince step inside.
Since Su Ruhan’s demotion, he had been moved from a fine chamber to this low earthen hut. The once high-spirited youth was gaunt and worn, though the steel in his eyes remained unchanged.
The prince approached and gently helped him back onto the bed.
The gesture stunned Su Ruhan. Never had the prince’s features seemed so softened. He could not decipher whether the expression he saw was joy or sorrow.
“Why did you release Ning Yue?” the Third Prince asked.
Su Ruhan smiled faintly. He should have known—the prince had not come out of concern. Such a notion was fantasy. He had come to demand accountability.
“Ning Yue committed no crime. He deserved release.”
“Then of those you have slain, which were guilty?” the prince countered.
Indeed, countless had fallen to Su Ruhan’s sword—some merely distracted for a heartbeat before losing their lives. Ning Yue had offended the Third Prince and trespassed into Qinyi Courtyard. Either offense warranted death a thousand times over.
Yet Su Ruhan had not expected debate.
Seeing the prince’s serious expression, he answered truthfully, “Ning Yue serves the Mu Manor. One fewer death there means one fewer lost lead in the investigation of Grand Tutor Mu’s demise.”
“And why are you certain Mu Xueshi did not kill him?”
Su Ruhan laughed softly, daring beyond measure. “Because I learned it from Your Highness.”
The Third Prince regarded him with a half-smile and, in a gesture startlingly intimate, laid a hand upon his hair.
“Is he beautiful?” he asked.
Su Ruhan understood at once.
“No one under Heaven compares.”
“Oh?” The prince seemed almost amused. “So you risked death to clear his name?”
Su Ruhan nodded calmly.
The air grew colder. The prince’s expression tightened; tension rippled outward like the hush before a storm.
Su Ruhan braced himself for the inevitable.
Instead, the Third Prince turned without a word and tossed him a small vial—medicine for mending broken bones.
Though Su Ruhan had not truly lost his martial arts, the prince had not crippled him either.
Holding the bottle, Su Ruhan did not know what to feel.
Years of discipline had trained him to seek hidden motives behind the prince’s every act. Never had he allowed himself to interpret them at face value.
Futile Devices Scans 
Leave a comment